Teacher's Pet
by Incendia Glacies
Summary: Basically just a Professor!Twelve and Student!Clara AU...I'll come up with a better summary later, but that really is the main premise of this...Enjoy! Rated strong T for a few scenes, but it's nothing too graphic...


**And here we are! My first Whouffaldi AU: Professor!Twelve and Student!Clara…it's finished!**

**Warnings: There are a couple scenes rated strong T for sexual situations, but I don't think they're graphic enough to make it M-rated. Please let me know if you disagree and I'll change the rating accordingly.**

**Also, once again I'm not sure I got the characterization right, and the ending kind of suck and people make a lot of fun of Captain Jack Harkness…**

**The only reason why this is so long is because I absolutely refuse to make a multichapter story…but anyways…please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! I also don't live in the UK so I have no knowledge of how their universities or grading systems work. I mainly based it off my own college system.**

* * *

"Why am I here?" Clara grumbled as she followed the Scottish ginger haired woman into the classroom.

"Because you signed up for the class!" Amy replied.

"Yeah, but I only signed up for it because you made me! It's my last year, I should be loading up on all the english courses – you know, because it's my major? – but instead, here I am in a history class. Why did I agree to this?"

"Because you're the very best friend possible? And I love you endlessly for suffering with me," Amy gave her best puppy eyes to the brunette.

Clara snorted, "Careful, Rory might get jealous. Remember him? Your fiancé? I certainly do, the way you two snog on the sofa _every night_. Honestly, you're like rabbits!"

"Oi, it's true love! Besides, you're just bitter because you're old and single."

"And a masochist too, since I agreed to be your Maid of Honour. And for taking this class. Wasn't this professor supposed to be really hard? Amy, I don't even like history. I shouldn't have signed up for this!"

"Oh he's not so bad. He's a bit strict, but the Doctor's the best professor out there. He really knows his stuff, and is the best teacher. Besides, other people have Professor Harkness, I hear he makes you call him 'Captain'."

"But he sounds cool, and as I've heard, super good looking," Clara winked.

"Yes, but his class requires you to be a history major, which you're not. The Doctor doesn't care what major you are as long as you can keep up. And I'll be here to help you out, yeah?"

"I guess…how come he's called the Doctor? Doesn't he have a proper name?"

"Running gag in the history department. He's the head of the department, but nobody actually knows his name. It's taboo to talk about it. Apparently the last guy that asked about his name, flunked out of college and was never heard from again," Amy finished her tale, a mystical look in her eyes.

"That's absolute rubbish!" Clara debunked the myth.

"Yeah, but urban legends are cool. Anyways, since nobody knows what his name is, most people just think his name is 'John Smith' and he doesn't want anyone to know about his non-awesome name. But no one knows for sure."

A sharp whistle pierced the chattering in the air. Clara turned her head to the center of the room. There in the middle, stood a tall silver haired man. His hair was curly and his eyes an icy blue, surveying the class like he was uncovering all their sins. He wore a dark blue suit, though Clara could make out the bright red lining on the inside since he had only done up one button of the jacket.

The man gave a small crooked smile as he addressed the class, "Hello, I am the Doctor. Welcome to 'Ancient Civilizations', if you're in the wrong class, I suggest you leave now."

The noise levels went up as the entire class looked around, trying to see if anybody would actually leave. Clara remained shell-shocked as she took in the Doctor's rough Scottish accent. Needless to say, she was somewhat (very much) intimidated by the old man. She glanced over at her ginger friend, trying to gauge Amy's reaction. The red head was positively beaming. Clara didn't understand her. She chalked it up to Amy being ridiculously happy about having a Scottish professor and getting to learn about Romans. That was the only logical explanation after all – for Amy, anyways.

"Now then, settle down everyone," the Doctor demanded attention again, "As you know, this is also a history course for non-majors. I don't discriminate, but do keep in mind that this is still an upper level history class. Make sure you actually want to be here, if not, then again, I suggest you leave. If you choose to stay, then good luck."

Clara couldn't be positive, but somehow she felt as though the man knew exactly what her major was and exactly how she felt about this class. She gulped inaudibly as the Doctor's piercing gaze swept over her. She was completely screwed.

* * *

Three weeks. That's how long she had been in that stupid history class for. Three weeks and she already felt like clawing her eyes and ripping her hair out. She hated that class so much. History was stupid! Who cared about a bunch of dead people anyways? (Well, Amy apparently did, but who cares about her? She's crazy!)

And that stupid Doctor! The man didn't even have a proper name! No, instead he wore a smug look and constantly called on Clara like she would know the answer when really he was just humiliating her in front of a hundred people. Would it kill him to pick on Amy, the actual history major who actually liked the subject? No, instead he had to torment Clara, the english major, for the fun of it.

Clara screamed into her pillow as she threw a tantrum on the sofa in their flat. Then her pillow seemed to take pity on her and began stroking her hair…wait…pillows didn't have hands!

Clara's head shot up and came face to face with Rory, her second roommate and Amy's fiancé.

"Feeling better after screaming a bit?" Rory asked gently.

The young woman blushed, "Sorry Rory. Just upset. It's this stupid history class; I swear the Doctor is such-"

"A smug bastard with a penchant for torturing innocent young girls?" Rory finished for her. Seeing her questioning stare, Rory shrugged and quickly explained, "You were muttering about it before you started screaming." Clara let out a small 'oh' in understanding.

"If you hate it so much, why can't you just drop the class?" Rory questioned.

"Talked to my advisor about it, apparently if I drop the class I won't have enough hours to graduate with. It's not worth it. I'm just going to have to suck it up, I guess."

Rory gave an empathetic noise before gathering the small woman in his arms and giving her a tight hug of sympathy.

"Oi, what's all this about? What's wrong with Clara?" Amy asked as she walked into the room to find her roommates wrapped up in each other.

Rory looked up and explained bluntly, "She hates the history professor."

"Why? He's awesome!"

Clara snapped, "You only like him because he's Scottish! Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure he knows I'm not a history major and chooses to torture me because of it! Remember that essay we just got back on Ancient Egypt? He failed me! Failed me, Amy! I do not fail! Ever!"

Amy tutted and gently rubbed the smaller girl's back, "I know it looks bad right now, because perfect Clara never gets anything lower than an 80," she teased her friend, "But it's not the end of the world, I promise!"

Clara simply glared some more. She needed better friends.

"Why don't you just talk to the professor?" Rory suggested. Clara huffed; she could hardly stand the man in a room full of people, what made Rory think she wanted one-on-one time with the bloke?

"No, he's right," Amy agreed, "Just visit him in office hours. I've gone a few times, he's actually really nice, Clara. Besides, at least you could find out what you did wrong and fix your mistakes before our other essay is due next week."

Clara sighed, "Fine, I'll go! But I'm not going to like it!"

* * *

Clara stood unsurely in front of the grand oak door. She looked at the nameplate and snorted. 'Doctor'…even his door didn't have his name. The young woman was seriously beginning to doubt he even had a name. Taking a deep breath, Clara stood up straight and gave the door three steady knocks, then stood back and waited for a response.

"Come in."

Clara exhaled and opened the door. It was a rather spacious office, definitely bigger than the broom cupboard her english professor had. Then again, the Doctor was the head of the department; Clara supposed the job came with some perks. The Doctor was sitting at his desk finishing up his conversation with a blonde woman. The english major took the time to look around the office: there was a desk and a bookshelf overflowing with books and a small couch pushed against the wall. Behind the desk was a rack, cluttered with various knick-knacks – snow globes, rubik cubes and what not. There was even a floor lamp; the only thing this office was missing was a window.

"Right, so I'll get these back to you by the end of the week?" the blonde woman spoke again, holding up a stack of papers. Clara recognized her as Rose, her history TA. She normally led the discussions. Rose was much nicer than the Doctor in Clara's opinion; she had a hard time understanding why such a nice person worked with such a harsh professor.

"It's not urgent, take your time. I know you're busy this week, just make sure you get them done before midterm grades are due," the Doctor answered.

"Gotcha, bye Doctor," Rose gave the man a mock salute which made him laugh before leaving the room, also giving Clara an acknowledging smile before she left.

The Doctor cleared his throat as the door closed, "So Ms…"

"Oswald, Clara Oswald," she finished a bit breathless from the sudden intimacy of the situation. How did he not know who she was? He certainly called on her enough in class!

"Right, Ms. Oswald. Please, have a seat. What can I do for you?" the Doctor gave a small smile and gestured to the seat opposite him.

"Well, it's about the essay we just got back, on Ancient Egypt?" Clara dug into her bag to find said paper. The Doctor nodded, waiting for her to continue, "Well you failed me, and I just didn't understand why."

"Well, that's not vague at all," the Doctor said. Clara blushed. Amy hadn't told her that he was smug _and_ sarcastic!

"Right, well. You wrote that I didn't have enough, but I wrote five pages and the length requirement was four to six pages so…" Clara trailed off.

The Doctor held out his hand, silently requesting for the papers in her hands. Clara obliged and handed it over. The Doctor quickly flipped through it, making note of the comments he'd left in red ink.

"Right, now I remember. You wrote a good amount, but you didn't actually write much about the topic. Most of the essay was just overflowing with a bunch of fluff, honestly," the Doctor held out the paper.

"Excuse me?" Clara glared as she snatched the paper and began scrutinizing it herself, "I can write essays. I'm an english major! I know how to write essays!"

"You know how to write an english essay, not a history essay. There's a difference," the Doctor told her sternly, "Your language is wonderful, but history essays don't need all that flowery crap. We just need the facts."

"Well I'm sorry, just because you were probably alive during, what, the French Revolution or whatever, doesn't mean that I was!" Clara seethed.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, masking his anger as he narrowed his eyes at her. Clara could feel her cheeks and neck heat up under his gaze, but refused to take back her words – no matter how much she may have regretted them. Instead she stared back, unflinchingly.

"My dear, how old do you think I am?" he sounded more amused than angry.

"I don't know, by the grey hair I'd say just over two thousand, if I'm being nice," oh what was she doing? Clara Oswald had never been rude to her superiors before, especially not those in charge of her grades. Oh, she was in hot water now, and yet she still refused to back down.

"I'd rather be two thousand, than the five year old you're acting like right now," the Doctor retorted.

Clara's mouth hardened, she had never been spoken to in such a manner by a professor. Granted, she had thrown the first shot, but still.

Shoving the papers into her bag, Clara hastily got up, "This was clearly a mistake, and a waste of my time. I'm sorry for bothering you."

Just as she reached the door, the Doctor's voice stopped her again, "Ms. Oswald, the way I see it, you really only have three options." Clara stopped and turned just slightly, enough to see the Doctor out of the corner of her eye.

"You could either swallow your pride and take my advice, drop my course as I had warned the first day, or suck it up and most likely fail if you keep it up with that attitude of yours," the Doctor ticked off his fingers as he listed his suggestions, "Your choice."

Clara huffed and whirled around, making sure to slam the door extra hard as she left.

Smug, sarcastic, rude, irritating bastard!

* * *

"Do you want to talk to her?" Rory whispered.

"No, maybe you should, you're really good with the comforting thing," Amy whispered back.

"Yeah, but what if it's 'girl stuff'. That's your area."

"I CAN HEAR YOU!" Clara yelled across the room.

Amy sighed and made her way over to the sofa where her roommate had cocooned herself underneath blankets and was currently shoveling ice cream into her mouth.

"Okay, what are you doing? And is that my ice cream? Clara, you know 'Strawberries n Cream' is my favourite!"

"Sorry, I'll pay you back, yeah?"

Amy smiled sympathetically and cuddled into her friend's side, "Okay, now tell Mama Amy what's wrong. Do you need me to take care of anyone? I think Rory still has his sword, right Rory?"

"Yeah, it's in the wardrobe, are we going to need it?"

"You two are so weird! I can't believe you kept that thing; you hardly even know how to use it. You took one fencing lesson and you got that at a Renaissance Festival," Clara complained.

"Hey, she's laughing, this is progress!" Rory pointed out.

Amy shushed him before addressing the girl again, "What's wrong?"

"Went to see the Doctor. He said I can't write a history paper and basically told me to just drop the class. He said I had too much fluff! I'm an english major, I know how to write papers!"

Amy stayed silent before gently explaining, "Well, he might have a point."

"Amy, you're _my_ best mate! You're supposed to be defending me, not that cranky old man! Even if he is Scottish."

Amy rolled her eyes, "Oh shut up and hear me out for a second. You're used to writing english papers where you have to make inferences and connections in literature, but this is history. You're trying too hard to make it all pretty and perfect. In history, it's basically making an assertion and then backing it up with a bunch of facts. That's all. No need for the flowery language."

"Oh great, now you sound like him too!" Clara moaned.

Amy slapped her playfully, "I should hope so; he is the head of the history department. Okay, come on, get up and grab your stuff. Let me read over your paper on Mesopotamia before you turn it in, I can let you know what you can cut out. Come on, get up! Move your lazy bum!"

Clara let out a squeak as the red head smacked her behind before grumbling as she did as she was told. She seriously needed better friends. And hopefully ones that didn't snog all the time.

* * *

Clara sat nervously at her desk waiting for class to finish. They were getting their history papers back today and she was desperate to find out how she did. Her essay had barely made four pages and it really didn't feel like enough, but Amy swore up and down that it was brilliant.

"Stop fidgeting already!" Amy hissed, glaring at her friend. Clara stopped with her incessant pencil tapping and biting her fingernails, it was a terrible habit that she just couldn't break.

"I'm nervous," Clara whispered back, side-eying the Doctor. He hadn't called on her much since the day she had visited office hours, but she didn't want to anger him by talking in his class.

"Well don't be, I promise you'll do fine," Amy kept her eyes forward, the words barely escaping out the corner of her mouth. Unlike Clara, Amy was trying not to attract attention because she actually enjoyed the subject.

"Oh and before I forget, Rose has your graded essays at the back of the room, so make sure you get them before you leave," the Doctor announced, ending the lecture.

Clara and Amy melted into the horde of people attempting to get to Rose first. Clara couldn't help but feel bad for the blonde girl having to deal with all these people at once. The two friends held back until the crowd thinned before going up to retrieve their essays.

"Oswald and Pond," Amy announced as she made her way to the front.

"Yeah, got them right here," Rose flashed a huge smile as she handed back their essays to the respectful owner.

Clara inhaled sharply as she saw the grade at the top.

"So, how'd you do?" Amy asked noticing her friend's shocked look, not getting a response she leaned over to peek at the grade. A bright red '85' graced the top of the page, "Hey that's good! That's like 35 point's higher than last time, Clara!"

"Yeah, there's no way that's real," Clara breathed. Not after the way she had talked back to the professor.

"Why can't you just accept it and move on?" Amy sighed.

Clara turned on her heel and asked Rose, "Did you grade this or did the Doctor?"

"No, I didn't. I only handle the discussion points, reading quizzes and short answers on the exams really. The Doctor takes care of all the essays," Rose replied.

"Right, thanks," Clara smiled, still unsure of how she did so well.

"There, you see? All's well that ends well," Amy slung and arm around the shorter girl's shoulders as she led them out of the classroom, "And Mother Amy knows best."

Clara gave a small laugh as she let her friend ramble on about her superior knowledge in history. The only thought running through her head was how much of an apology she owed the Doctor.

* * *

Once again Clara stood in front of the intimidating oak doors. She hesitated slightly before knocking on the doors, more meekly than she did the last time she had been here.

"Come in," the Doctor's voice called from the other side.

Clara took a deep breath before cracking the door open and letting herself in. Looking around, she was confused when she didn't find the Doctor at his desk. Her eyes swept the room and stilled when she found the Doctor on the sofa, a book in his hands and thick rimmed reading glasses perched on his face, his eyes watching her intently. Clara took a step back from the intensity of the gaze, inadvertently closing the door behind her as she did so.

"Ms. Oswald, to what do I owe the pleasure?" the Doctor closed the book and pulled the glasses from his face, pocketing them as he came around to sit on the arm of the sofa right in front of her, "Come to yell at me some more?"

Clara looked down, blushing before gathering her confidence and speaking her mind, "No, I just – the essays we got back today. I did much better on it, so I came by to thank you…and to apologize for my behaviour last time."

The Doctor crossed his arms and gave a small smile, "Yes, well you did much better on this essay than the last. I'm assuming Ms. Pond helped you out some?" Clara looked up surprised, the Doctor continued, "You had some of the same book sources and facts, it was just a guess."

"Yes, yes she did. Amy's my best mate, and roommate and the history nerd out of the two of us, so she helped me out a lot. I get what you said last time, about writing differently for history and english class, you were right about that."

"Oh I do love hearing about how right I am; it's music to my ears," the Doctor joked, Clara let out a small giggle, her hand moving to cover her mouth as she did so, "Anyways, as it stands. You earned your grade, a lot less fluff this time. Though, I might have been a bit vindictive, after you called me old…just over two thousand, you said?"

"Oh goodness," Clara covered her face in embarrassment, "I'm so sorry! Really, I was just really upset and I don't like history and I thought you hated me and were tormenting me for not being a history major and I took it out on you, I'm really sorry!"

The Doctor laughed before reaching out and prying the girl's hands off her face, "It's fine, apology accepted. But, I will have you know that I am a professor, torturing students is the first thing they tell us to do. They also teach us the evil laugh, it's standard stuff, really. Also, I'm just slightly under two thousand, not over."

How had Clara never noticed the childish glee in the Doctor's blue eyes before? His enthusiasm was rather infectious.

Playing along Clara replied, "Well, in that case you look rather good for your age. Most humans would be dust by now."

"Thank you my dear, but who says I'm human in the first place?" the Doctor winked. Clara's eyes widened before she started to laugh. As her breathing returned to a normal rhythm, Clara's eyes wandered down and noticed the Doctor was still holding her hands. The Doctor followed her gaze and quickly dropped her hands, as though they had burned him.

"Sorry about that," the Doctor said.

"It's fine," Clara replied feeling a shift in the light atmosphere, "Anyways, that was all. I just wanted to thank you and say sorry. So, I'll just go now."

"Ms. Oswald," the Doctor stopped her before she could open the door.

"Clara, my name is Clara…you can call me that, seeing as how it's my name…and all," since when did she flounder about with words?

The Doctor smiled, "Clara, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, sure."

"If you don't like history, why are you even in my class? Why not just drop it?"

"Well I took it because Amy made me, and I did want to drop it, but my advisor wouldn't let me, so here I am stuck in your class. And also Professor Harkness is only teaching the history majors this year."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, clearly indicating irritation for the other man, "Jack Harkness really isn't that great, you know."

"Maybe, but he is rather easy on the eyes," Clara smirked.

The Doctor laughed at that, "Yes well, your thoughts and countless other young girls' thoughts I'm sure."

"Oh don't be so put off, Doctor, you're not so bad yourself," Clara teased. Though as she appraised his stature, she had to admit for a man his age, he was quite fit. Hell, she'd go as far as calling him a silver fox. When the man wasn't frowning, he actually seemed rather delightful to be around. Clara couldn't help but compare him to some sort of fluffy owl…or something.

"Either way, the man's clearly half mad. He makes the students call him 'Captain', he's not a pirate!" the Doctor completely ignored the blatant flirting in favour of irritation towards the other professor.

"This coming from a man who goes by 'The Doctor'"

"Yes, but you have to realize my dear, I'm completely mad. I chose to be a professor after all."

"Clearly, and a professor of history no less."

The Doctor studied her for a moment, "Why do you hate history so much?"

"I don't hate it. I just find it useless and boring, why do I need to learn about a bunch of dead guys? It seems rather morbid."

"Perhaps," the Doctor admitted, "But, when you learn about them, for just a little while, it's like they're alive again. You learn not to make the same mistakes again; you learn what works and what fails. It helps you to move forward in life. Why do you like english so much?"

"Because, it's like an escape. You can explore a thousand different worlds without leaving your house look at humanity through different lenses."

"There! You see! History and English aren't that different after all. Think of it like reading a story, you do get to see a brand new world, it's just the past. And until they can get the first time machine to work, reading those boring textbooks are the best way to experience all the wonder first hand. Don't you think it's rather amazing, that all that stuff you're reading in your textbook happened at some point or another in real life? To think, that we may not even be talking here if something in the past hadn't happened. It's a chain reaction of cause and effect!"

Clara startled at the Doctor's unreserved enthusiasm of it all, "You sure you're not just mistaking history for science fiction, there?"

"Positive, well at least until I get my time machine to work," the Doctor winked again.

"Well tell you what, when you build a time machine, you can give me a ride in it and if it's as amazing as you say it is, I'll happily admit that history is a wonderful subject. But until then, I still find it boring."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "Very well then. You'll be the first to go with me, okay? But until then, think about what I said. History is a story, you've got your villains and heroes and a very thick plot…Give it some thought, after all, I was right last time!"

"You're never going to forget I said that now, are you?" Clara countered.

"Not for a second. I like to be right, Clara."

Clara smiled, enjoying the sound of her name on the Doctor's lips, "Right, well if that's all…I should get going then. Thank you, for everything. Let me know about the time machine, yeah?"

"Of course, will do. Well, you know where to find me. I'll see you in class, bye Clara."

"Bye Doctor," Clara bid as she walked into the hallway, catching a glance of the Doctor leaning against the doorway watching her walk away. Clara looked down, trying to hid the silly smile that had graced her face and not to skip away, while also trying desperately (and failing) to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she thought of the Doctor holding her hands and that boyish smile of his.

Oh she was so screwed.

* * *

Clara honestly didn't think she'd go back to office hours after that time, after all, she had only wanted to say 'thank you'. And yet, she found herself actually wanting to go. She had thought about what the Doctor had said about reading the textbook like a story, and while that helped some…she would much rather listen to the Doctor talk and explain everything to her.

His Scottish accent made everything sound much better (though sometimes she thinks the words don't really make it to her brain, just the tone and inflection), maybe that's why Amy enjoyed class so much. And she wasn't lying when she had said he was rather easy on the eyes, especially when he wore his glasses and undid the top buttons of his collar.

So Clara might have harboured a small crush for the man, it wasn't hurting anyone! Besides, it's not like she was doodling their names together (not that she even knows his) in a notebook surrounded by little hearts, that would have been childish! She just appreciated how he looked, and spoke and his snarky sense of humour. When you weren't on the receiving end of his quips, then he was quite a funny man. She still can't quite answer him during class when he calls on her, but that's more because she's distracted by him than actually hating the subject itself.

So it starts off innocently enough. She makes the excuse of having him check over her outline for their next essay, and then the rough draft and so forth. And every time she's in there she gets distracted by all his books or his shelf of knick-knacks behind the desk. He tells her stories of all the places he's visited when she mentions how much she wants to travel, and paraphrases half the textbook for her without even realizing it (she'd much rather hear it from his voice anyways) and she absolutely loves how his eyes light up with passion whenever he talks about…well really anything with her.

She had taken to spending most of her free time in the Doctor's office. It wasn't really awkward for her, she had always been a bit of a teacher's pet and normally spent her time in some of her other professors' offices. The only difference now, was that the Doctor was a history professor rather than an english professor. Clara had been audience to many a verbal spar between Captain Harkness and the Doctor (as well as quite a few come-ons from Jack's side) and also watched him mentor Rose Tyler whenever she came in to discuss her thesis. He never complained about Clara's presence, so she figured it was the perfect solution for all parties. She got help on her history essays (and got to spend time with the Doctor) and Amy and Rory got more alone time at the flat (to do whatever it was they did).

So of course Clara absolutely loves it when she and her roommates go to a party and she finds Rose there – who apparently remembers her because the Doctor talks about her all the time. Okay so maybe not all the time, but he does talk about her! Amy finds it strange and pulls Rose aside for a history discussion of some sort. Clara simply hides her smile and lets her stomach flip flop with happiness as she gets another drink and listens to Rose's messy haired boyfriend go on about something about physics.

The more time Clara spends with the Doctor, the more she learns how wrong her first impressions of him were. She enjoys that he isn't as stuck up and stubborn as she had originally thought. The Doctor was actually a rather sweet man, but that didn't mean he couldn't hold his own in an argument against her.

* * *

"Is there a word for total screaming genius that sounds modest and just a tiny bit sexy?" Clara inquired.

"Doctor," her professor responded solemnly.

"I see what you did there," Clara smiled, "You do know 'The Doctor' isn't actually a real name, right?" Clara asked from where she was perched on his sofa. The Doctor was grading at his desk while Clara had stretched herself out like a cat and was reading a novel for one of her literature classes.

"Of course I know that, I chose it, didn't I?" he barely looks up at her, but fully acknowledges her question.

"Well I'm just saying, it's weird. Who goes through life without an actual name?"

"Leonardo Da Vinci, he didn't have a last name. Of course he was a bastard child, so he didn't deserve a last name; Vinci is just where he was from."

"Huh," Clara digested the information. She was quickly learning that the Doctor had a comeback or explanation for everything. Quirking her lips, she asked, "Are you trying to tell me that you chose the title 'Doctor' because you really are a bastard?"

The Doctor flashed his eyes at her, "That's right, insult the man that decides your grades. That's smart!"

"Oi, I don't think you're allowed to do that as a professor!" Clara argued, though she knew he was joking. The Doctor wouldn't stoop so low, she hoped.

"I don't think you're allowed to be on my sofa like that, since you're a student and all!" the Doctor countered.

Clara rolled her eyes, "Oh please, if you actually had a problem with it, you would have kicked me out ages ago!"

"I really should have," the Doctor muttered to himself, taking in the young woman's figure draped across the seats. Her hair cascading down her back as she was laid out on her stomach, her legs kicking in the air behind her.

"What was that?" Clara heard him mutter something unintelligible and frowned at him.

"Nothing dear, go back to reading your book," another thing Clara had learned was his use of petnames for everyone. She was pretty sure it had something to do with being Scottish.

Clara humphed, "Fine, but you know I'm right."

"Have you always been this bossy and controlling?" the Doctor questioned.

"I prefer 'confident'" Clara replied before ignoring him completely in favour of her book. The Doctor rolled his eyes and looked back at his grading, Clara Oswald was truly impossible at times. And he was pretty sure he loved every second of it.

The Doctor was completely screwed.

* * *

_The Doctor had her pinned against the chalkboard, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist with her fingernails digging into his curly hair. His tongue and lips were doing unspeakable things to her neck that left her breathless, and all she wanted was to be closer to him._

"_Doctor," she panted (pleaded) as his teeth scraped her pulse, his fingers bruising her hips in order to keep her upright and in place._

"_Clara," he responded huskily into her ear, he pushed her harder against the blackboard, Clara whimpered with ecstasy. He held her up with his body against her own; his one hand going up her dress, fingers mapping out her skin as they slipped under her knickers. Clara moaned with pleasure as he kissed the tops of her breasts, his other hand playing with the zipper at the back of her outfit as he did so._

"_Clara," he whispered again, "Clara…Clara…CLARA!"_

* * *

Clara jolted upright as Amy hit her head with a pencil, glaring at her. The small brunette blinked and took in her surroundings, she was in history class…she must have been daydreaming…again. Clara avoided Amy's scrutiny, as she crossed and uncrossed her legs (and attempted to ignore the fact that she was most definitely wet) and tried to breathe normally. She struggled not to turn pink as the Doctor looked up in their direction, not missing the small ruckus they had caused in his class; Clara gave an innocent smile, hoping he would let it go.

Honestly, it was his fault she was in this predicament in the first place. The Doctor was the one that had swaggered in here looking half asleep with his hair a mess, and glasses on without his normal jacket, but rather just a stupid waistcoat. It was winter, for crying out loud! He wasn't allowed to do that.

Now she just had to make it out of here without answering any of Amy's questions (she was sure to have some) until Clara had some proper answers (which didn't involve her having the hots for their professor).

Oh yeah, totally the Doctor's fault.

* * *

The Doctor stepped into his office from his midday meeting to find a rather pleasant sight. Clara Oswald was kneeling on his chair attempting to grab something from the shelf above her. The Doctor smiled and decided to surprise his favourite (though he'd never admit it out loud) student. Quietly, he tiptoed over and lurched the wheeled chair back, enjoying Clara's shriek of surprise as he did so.

"That wasn't very nice!" Clara glared as she turned to face him and steadied her balance.

"It's not very nice to sit in my chair, what are you doing in here anyways? How did you even get in?"

"The door was unlocked, it's not my fault you don't have proper security."

"Most people have manners and knock."

"Well I'm not most people, now am I?"

The Doctor refused to give her the upper hand in the banter and simply held out his hands to help her out of his chair, she thankfully accepted his help.

"Is there anything in particular you wanted from up there?" the Doctor asked as she brought herself to full height, barely meeting her chin (which meant she was wearing heels).

"The snow globe on the right, I couldn't see it properly."

The Doctor smiled and fetched it for her, handing it to her cautiously, watching her eyes light up as she held it. Once the woman was pleased with her trinket, the Doctor collapsed into the chair in exhaustion. It had been an incredibly long day.

Hearing his long sigh, Clara turned around, "Oh that's right, I got you something. You weren't looking all that great in class today." She smiled as she handed him a coffee.

"You are an absolute angel, do you know that?" the Doctor graciously accepted her gift. Clara blushed at the compliment and sat down on his desk, just in front of him. She didn't care how her dress rode up just slightly as she perched herself, after all, she had worn stockings today.

"You didn't seem all that great in class either. Made an awful lot of noise, you and your friend."

Clara looked away, "Yeah, well…just distracted, that's all."

He watched her intently as he took a sip of his coffee; while Clara tried to look anywhere but at him as he licked his lips.

"Distracted, hmmm? Not sure how I feel about that. You find something more interesting than my class. Careful, I can be quite the jealous type," he teased.

Clara's eyes widened as she bit her lip, trying not to let all the fantasies play out in her head at exactly _what_ the Doctor could do to her in a fit of jealousy (although, marking her body all over with hickeys did run through her mind). Before Clara could answer, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," the Doctor answered before Clara could move from her spot. The Doctor easily rolled over a bit to the left so that he was in the middle of the desk rather than in front of Clara.

"Sorry, did I come at a bad time? I know it's not your usual office hours." Clara recognized that Scottish accent. Amy!

"No, of course not, I'm always happy to see my students. Hello Amelia," the Doctor greeted.

"Amelia?" Clara questioned, "I don't think anyone calls her Amelia except for her mother, when she's very, very cross."

"Yes, I'm trying to teach him Amy, but he seems to have his heart set on 'Amelia'," Amy answered, silently asking what on earth Clara was doing in the Doctor's office.

"It sounds like a fairy tale," the Doctor defended himself.

"And you sound like a twelve year old," Clara commented. The Doctor flicked her leg in irritation; Amy didn't miss the small exchange.

"Anyways, I needed this form signed by you? I wanted to go on the trip to Greece with Professor Jo Grant, for World Cultures." Amy piped up.

"Oh yes of course," the Doctor took the forms from her hand and began signing them.

"So this is where you've been running off to for the past semester," Amy addressed Clara, "Rory thought you found better friends and were trying to break up with us gently."

"Being a third wheel gets so boring Amy. Besides, it's hard to concentrate around you two," Clara complained, trying to leave her feelings for the Doctor out of the conversation.

"What and you couldn't have gone to the library?" Amy demanded.

"The Doctor doesn't mind, he enjoys my company, don't you Doctor?"

The Doctor handed Amy her papers and replied, "Oh, I thought you simply came with the furniture, dear. You're in here often enough."

"See, he's completely used to it," Clara smiled at the usual sarcastic response. He didn't say he _disliked_ her company.

"Oh and you actually like spending time with him? Because I happen to remember you saying he's an 'irritating, smug, old, sarcastic bastard', no offence Doctor," Amy smiled sweetly, demanding answers. Clara blushed furiously as she tried to formulate an explanation.

"Really," the Doctor smiled, clearly amused by the side conversation about him, "Do tell me more!"

Vindictive, old bastard!

"No, Amy has to go to dinner with Rory, don't you Amy?" Clara glared at her best friend.

"Yes, must have slipped my mind. Have to dash, sorry Doctor. See you back home, Clara," Amy turned and walked out of the room, closing the door with slightly more force than needed. The message had been clear: they were talking about this at home.

"Smug, sarcastic, old bastard?" the Doctor asked, grinning all the while.

"Oh shut up! It was when you were still tormenting me! I didn't know any better," Clara whined, clearly embarrassed by the turn of events. Why was the Doctor taking this so lightly? Most people would have been furious.

"Are you saying that I'm not tormenting you now? Darn, I'll have to work on that," the Doctor sighed. He _was_ tormenting her, just in a different way than before. Clara groaned in frustration.

"But seriously, old?" the Doctor seemed almost hurt by her word choice.

Clara rolled her eyes, "Of all the things you could think of, you choose to latch onto that!" The Doctor shrugged, awaiting a response.

"Like I said, it was way back when, before I really got to know you," Clara pushed of the desk and began packing her things, "Now I do have to go, I only stopped by to give you the coffee, really. Thanks Doctor."

"Clara," the Doctor stopped her before she could reach the door as he always did, Clara turned, "What do you think of me now?"

Clara parted her lips, noticing the challenging smirk playing on his lips, oh that wouldn't do.

"I think you're a silver fox, and your confidence and passion make you just a tiny bit _sexy_," she flirted truthfully.

"Only a tiny bit?" the Doctor teased.

Clara shrugged as she backed out the door, "Or maybe a lot sexy," tilting her head as if examining him, she amended, "Yeah, definitely a lot." She slammed the door before he could get another word in.

* * *

Clara slinked into her flat, trying not to alert her roommates of her presence. She was sure to be lectured if they found her!

"Sit down," Amy's stern voice flew across the room.

Clara sighed and shrunk into the loveseat, "Before you start yelling at me, at least let me explain-"

"Explain?!" Amy shouted. Rory placed a hand on his fiancé's arm, attempting to calm her down. Quietly he settled them both across from Clara and gestured her to explain her side of the story.

"Right," Clara cleared her throat, she hadn't really thought this through, "It's just a small crush. That's all I swear!"

"That's not what it looked like to me when I saw the two of you in his office," Amy said curtly, "He's your professor, Clara! Did you even think this through? Do you know how old he is? If he has a wife? Or kids? Or how this would affect your college career? Since when did you even like him? Las time I checked, you couldn't stand the guy!"

"It's a crush," Clara responded heatedly, "Nothing to get so worked up about! And he's different, he really is nice, it just took me a while to see that. And besides, he hasn't mentioned anyone, so no, no other woman in the picture as far as I can tell. I'm not some home wrecker, Amy!"

Amy threw her hands up in exasperation, "I'm not saying you are. But the fact that you thought this far into it, worries me. You've never been that close with a professor before, let alone for a subject you hate!"

"Well, maybe I don't hate it so much anymore! Like you said, the Doctor is a really good teacher," Clara blushed at the unintended hidden innuendo, "I mean – look what does it matter? I've always been a goody-two shoes and a bit of a teacher's pet, why is this so different?"

"You've never sat on a teacher's desk and blatantly flirted with them before, there's a difference, Clara!" Amy argued.

"We're just worried about you," Rory interrupted before the argument could get more explosive, "Look, after what happened last time…with Latimer. I mean I know you've always had a thing for older guys, Clara…but isn't the Doctor, a bit too old?"

Clara's vision blurred with hatred as Rory brought up her ex (if he could even be called that!). She had just been a teenager then, when her mother had died a few years back, he was recently widowed and she had babysat his kids…one thing led to another. She was left with a broken heart that Amy and Rory had to patch up.

"It isn't like that this time. Honestly, it's nothing. He doesn't look at me like that," Clara offered quietly, voicing her thoughts, "I've been alone with him so many times, if he wanted me…he could have had me. But he's never overstepped any boundaries, not once! I don't know why I bother…but you don't have to worry about him hurting me, he's not going to. Okay?"

"Fine," Amy said shortly, "We only say it because we love you, yeah?" Clara nodded and kissed them both on the cheek and headed to her bedroom.

"You're still worried," Rory noted when they were left alone.

"Of course I am, stupid-face," Amy snapped.

"Clara said there was nothing to worry about. Look, you know the Doctor wouldn't try anything on her…and we have to trust her judgement when she says it's just a crush."

"But what if it's not," Amy responded, "What if she still gets her heart broken? Even if the Doctor doesn't want her that way…she could still get hurt."

* * *

The Doctor stepped into his office to find Clara rifling through the papers on his desk.

"What are you doing here? The semester's over, I thought I had finally gotten rid of you!" the Doctor teased. He had long since given up on trying to keep the pixie-like woman out of his office.

Clara smirked at him before turning back to the scattered papers, "Oh you know…figured you deserved a proper good bye. Since I practically lived here all semester." The Doctor hummed in agreement as he set his things down.

"How do you read these? The language is terrible to look at, it makes me squirm!" Clara complained as she scanned one of the essays.

The Doctor marched up behind her and winded an arm around her waist, pulling her back from the desk and flush against his body.

Grabbing the papers from her hand, he scolded, "You're not supposed to look at these! It's confidential! Honestly, what am I supposed to do with you?"

Clara spun around so she was facing him, only a few inches away. Smiling wickedly, she said, "I don't know? Are you going to punish me?" She had long since given up on subtlety. No wonder Captain Jack preferred the blatant flirting approach, it was much more fun. Still, the Doctor rolled his eyes and playfully hit the top of her head with the papers, while carefully extracting her hands off her coat where they had been creeping towards the buttons.

The Doctor sighed, "Oh, Clara."

"Oh, Doctor," Clara mimicked. She picked herself onto his desk, swinging her legs as she sat, "They really are horribly written though, you know?"

"Of course I do, I grade them, don't I?"

"Well, maybe you should let me help," Clara offered seriously.

"Excuse me?" the Doctor asked.

"I mean…Rose always needs help with the grading, so how about next semester you let me help you out? With the grading, and stuff."

"Why?" the Doctor asked suspiciously.

"Why do I need to have an alternative motive?" Clara placed a hand over her heart, trying her best to look offended. The Doctor crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Oh fine, it's my last semester, and I want to be an english teacher one day. So, I might as well get some practice in now, don't you think?"

"You don't even like history," the Doctor pointed out.

"Maybe you changed my mind – and without a time machine! The power of teaching," Clara buttered him up. The Doctor rolled his eyes and made to move for his chair. Clara grabbed his arm and kept him facing her.

"Oh come on Doctor, it could be fun. Besides, it would be a nice excuse to see you again," Clara finished quietly.

The Doctor stared at her before a smile split his face and his eyes brightened, "You're going to miss me!" he exclaimed.

"Oh shut up…maybe a little bit. You really were one of the best teacher's I've had," Clara admitted. It was true. Even without her fanciful crush clouding her judgement, Clara could tell that the Doctor loved what he did and spread that enthusiasm to everyone.

"Well now you're just sweet talking me!"

"Is it working?" Clara asked innocently.

The Doctor gave her a long, hard stare, before answering, "I suppose Rose could always use the extra help."

Clara squealed and launched onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly in a death gripping hug. The Doctor clenched his fists in surprise, not quite sure what to do in the situation, with a woman hanging off of him. Hesitantly, he placed his hand on the small of her back and returned the hug, patting her a few times to let her know that he had had enough.

Shyly, Clara dropped back to the ground, an easy smile still gracing her face.

"I think I'd probably miss you too," the Doctor quietly admitted. He felt as though he had bared his soul to her. But seeing her smile widen and her eyes sparkle, made it seem worth it. Especially when it made _him_ catch his breath and his heartbeat quicken.

* * *

"Doctor! Wait! Let me give you a hand with those!"

The Doctor turned in the bristling cold at the sound of Clara's voice. He watched as a man her age gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before parting ways with her. He tried desperately not to notice how his heart squeezed at the small affection. Clara smiled as she walked across the courtyard to meet the Doctor; soundlessly she lessened the pile of books in his arms as she took half the stack for herself.

"So where are we headed?" Clara asked joyfully.

"Oh, just my office," the Doctor responded in kind, "Did you have a nice winter break?"

"Sure, my entire family packed together for Christmas, pretending we all love each other – loads of fun!" Clara rolled her eyes as she followed the Doctor.

"You don't like Christmas?" the Doctor asked incredulously.

"Oh you mean the one day of the year we all sit around the table with a dead turkey in the middle and cram all our family time in, while my Aunt Linda constantly tries to find me a 'suitable man' oh no, it's my favourite time of the year, Doctor!" Clara responded sarcastically.

"Suitable man?" the Doctor asked as he unlocked and opened the door and gestured for Clara to enter.

"I just ranted about my entire personal life, and that's what you choose to comment on?" Clara scolded as she placed the books on the table, hands falling on her hips as she did so.

The Doctor shrugged as he began rearranging the various literatures into his bookshelf, "Well maybe you should introduce your family to the nice fellow that kissed your cheek out there, he seemed nice. That might get your family off your back," the Doctor continued attempting to keep his voice steady, "Does he have a name?"

"Danny, Danny Pink." The Doctor faced Clara only to find a strange knowing smile on her face.

"Danny…Pink?" he asked (what sort of a name was that?).

"Doctor…are you…jealous?" Clara smirked.

"Jealous?" the Doctor cried indignantly, "Of what?"

"Oh I don't know, the fact that he has an actual name and not just a title," Clara teased, meandering around the white elephant in the room.

"You're a brat, you know that?" the Doctor reprimanded, "And besides, 'Pink' is a terrible surname, the poor boy. But, I suppose, if he makes you happy…not much else matters then," he acquiesced. Clara hummed in agreement but didn't offer up any more information, a dreamy smile spreading across her face as she drew patterns in the woodwork of his desk. The Doctor tried terribly not to let the fiery jealously consume him too much. Instead he chose to grin and bear it as Clara pulled out homemade cookies to share with him.

* * *

"So, why exactly did you bring me out tonight?"

"What I can't buy my best friend a drink every once in a while? Especially when we haven't seen each other in, what a month? Honestly Sarah Jane, it's like you don't know me at all!" the Doctor complained.

"I know you plenty well, it's been an hour and you haven't told me what's wrong yet," Sarah Jane demanded.

"Maybe it's because nothing is wrong! So, how's Luke and Skye doing?" the Doctor tried changing the subject.

"Fine, they just made a robodog for the science fair. I blame you completely for untapping their genius potentials…they're calling the thing K-9!"

"They're brilliant kids!" the Doctor complimented.

"Yes they are," Sarah beamed with pride, "Now, my glass is empty so I'm going to get another drink, and when I come back, we're going to talk about whatever it is that's bothering you!"

The Doctor attempted to protest but Sarah Jane was already too far gone, "Stupid, nosy journalist," he muttered under his breath.

"Who's a nosy journalist?"

The Doctor jumped at the voice and snapped his head towards the source, placing a hand over his heart he addressed the speaker, "Christ, Clara! You can't do that! You're going to give an old man a heart attack."

Clara giggled, and nursed her own drink as she sat down next to the Doctor at the table, "Sorry Doctor, saw you here and couldn't resist saying hi. I'm here with some friends," she nodded to the other corner of the bar.

The Doctor followed her gaze and recognized a familiar face in the group, "Clara why is your boyfriend, Danny Pink, snogging another woman? I would be rather upset if that happened to me."

"What, if Danny Pink cheated on you?" Clara joked. The Doctor glared at her demanding an explanation. Clara laughed before continuing, "Oh, Doctor, I never said he was my boyfriend! He's Nina's boyfriend, the girl he's snogging right now. He's just a friend. I was starting to feel like a fifth wheel around the lot of them." Clara explained gesturing towards her roommates and the other couple.

"What, and you let me go on thinking he was your boyfriend?" the Doctor argued.

"Well, maybe I liked seeing you get jealous," Clara bantered playfully.

"I told you, I wasn't jealous!"

"Not even a little bit?" Clara sing-songed. The Doctor felt the back of his neck heat up, but refused to dignify the statement.

"Oh for goodness sake! I leave you alone for five minutes and already you find company with a younger woman! I feel very replaced!" Sarah Jane scolded as she re-entered the scene, sitting opposite the Doctor and Clara.

Clara sat up straight, a deer-in-headlights expression caught on her face, "Oh gosh! I'm so sorry! I didn't think I was interrupting anything! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your date-"

The Doctor placed a hand on her thigh and silenced her immediately, "It's not a date, Clara. This is Sarah Jane Smith, she's my best friend. We were just out having some drinks, that's all."

"Oh right, Sarah Jane Smith – the journalist! My dad loves your work, says you're the only honest writer in the business. Doctor, how come you didn't tell me you knew her?" Clara smacked his arm.

"What he doesn't talk about me? Hasn't mentioned me?" Sarah asked, "Not even once?"

"Not really, not that I can recall," Clara replied apologetically.

"I must have at some point," the Doctor defended himself.

"Really? When?" Clara quizzed.

"Well I – I mean I – oh shut up!" the Doctor took a sip of his whiskey in embarrassment.

Clara giggled before facing Sarah Jane, "Right, well I'm sorry for interrupting your night. I should probably let the two of you get back to whatever it was you were doing."

"Oh no need for that!" Sarah stopped her before she could leave; a look of understanding crossed her face. She was well aware that the Doctor's hand hadn't resurfaced onto the table, which meant it was still on Clara's leg. This must have been the problem the Doctor refused to bring up, "Please, stay," she insisted, "Surely there's something you've always wanted to know about the Doctor."

Eagerly Clara asked, "So do you know his name then? His actual name?"

Sarah laughed, "Of course I do! I'm his oldest friend. He thinks it's super mysterious, being called the 'Doctor'," she winked as the Doctor pouted childishly.

"So why'd he choose 'The Doctor'?"

"Well he was one, or he could have been. He passed medical school. But he wanted to keep learning. Ended up with degrees in history, physics, basic science and then he ended up teaching because he loved it so much. He's a man of many trades our Doctor."

Clara spared the man in question a scathing look, how had she not known all this? The Doctor merely shrugged in modesty.

"And you chose history of all things to teach. Blimey, you really are a masochist! Okay, what about the ridiculous jacket?"

"What's wrong with my jacket?" the Doctor raged.

"It's bright red on the inside, it makes my eyes hurt!"

"Well I don't dress for you, dear," the Doctor chastised, "Besides, I like the jacket; it's warm and comfortable!"

"It's weird."

"I take that as a compliment. Being normal is boring and overrated anyways!"

Clara laughed, "Of course you would think that! Okay, fine. But how come you don't wear a tie? I mean you practically wear a three-piece suit all the time, why not a tie?"

"I don't like them, it feels like someone is trying to strangle me," he complained.

"You liar! He never learned how to wear one properly," Sarah Jane interrupted.

"Alright, there's that too," the Doctor conceded.

"Honestly, River always had to tie them for you whenever there was a formal event, and then he'd spend the entire night complaining about it!" Sarah rattled on.

"Who's River?" Clara asked curiously.

"River Song, his wife," Sarah explained offhandedly.

"Wife? You're married," Clara stared at the Doctor distraughtly.

On impulse the Doctor squeezed the hand that was on the young girl's leg in an effort to soothe her. Laying his left hand on the table in front of her, he asked, "Do you see a ring on my finger? No. River Song is my _ex_-wife," the Doctor said pointedly and shot his best friend a nasty look as he did so.

"Oh, was it a recent divorce?"

"It's been about five years or so," the Doctor shrugged, "We're still good friends."

"So why did you break up?"

"She's an archaeologist, she moves around a lot…and once upon a time I loved to travel too, but as we grew older we grew apart. People just change, that's all," he said delicately.

"I'll say," Sarah made her presence known in the intimate conversation, "Remember when you were part of that punk band?"

The Doctor groaned and buried his face in his hands as Sarah Jane continued to regale a laughing Clara of all their stories from the glory days.

* * *

"Alright, take care now Sarah Jane. Call me when you get home, and send the kids my love," the Doctor bid his friend good bye as he placed her in the cab. Sarah Jane returned the farewells in kind and went as far as to give Clara a hug, surreptitiously slipping the girl a scrap of paper with her phone number.

As the two of them watched the taxi drive off in the night, the Doctor turned to Clara, "Now then, where are you off to? Shall I fetch you a cab as well?"

Clara giggled, "No need for that, my flat isn't too far. I'm just going to walk home, since the others left."

"Well alright then, I'll join you."

"You don't have to do that," Clara reasoned.

"My dear, you're a lightweight and positively tipsy. Trust me, I do," the Doctor held out an arm for Clara to link her own with. The brown haired girl giggled as she leaned against the Doctor's arm for support and began leading them towards her flat.

"Tonight was fun," she noted, "I never knew all that stuff about you. You never told me anything."

"I didn't realize I had to."

"You don't," Clara stopped in the street and faced him, "It's just that I feel like you know everything about me. How my mum died, that I love baking soufflés, my dad's wacky conspiracy theories, how I hate my Aunt Linda-"

"From what you've told me about her, anyone in your position would," the Doctor admitted.

Clara laughed, "Exactly! But see, it's like you know everything about me, and I don't even know your name."

The Doctor tucked a stray hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek, "My dear, nobody really knows my name. A handful at most. Besides, what does it matter, you know plenty of other things about me, much more important things than what's on my birth certificate."

"I suppose so," Clara pouted.

"I know so," the Doctor stated. A gust of wind blew past them, making Clara shiver, "Why on earth are you not wearing a jacket in this chilly weather," the Doctor demanded.

"Didn't think I was going to stay out so late, or that it would get so cold."

"Yes, well it's supposed to rain tonight, so let's hurry up and get you home. In the meantime, here take this," the Doctor undid the buttons of his jacket and covered her with it, "Better?"

"Much," Clara hummed, wrapping the fabric around her tightly and held onto the Doctor again as they began walking. She listened to the clicking of her heels against the pavement, echoing in the comfortable silence between them. Just as her flat came into view, she felt drops of water smacking her skin and heard the pitter patter of the rain against the windows of the buildings.

"Oh dear, come on!" the Doctor grabbed her hand and they set off in a small sprint to the stairs of her place.

"Doctor! I'm wearing heels!" Clara complained.

"Well that's not my fault! Now come on, before we get soaked!" the Doctor allowed Clara to lead him up the covered steps and run down the corridor together before they reached her door. Clara gasped for breath from the exhilarating run and leaned back against the door, her heart beating rapidly. The Doctor placed his hands on either side of her body, caging her in as he caught his own breath.

"That was the most strenuous activity I've had in a while," he breathed heavily.

Clara raised an eyebrow, "Wow, someone doesn't get out much!"

The Doctor pinched her side playfully, "Quiet you! We can't all be embodiments of youth. In case you haven't noticed, I'm old."

Clara lightly flicked at his silver curls, "Oh trust me, I've noticed. But you're only as old as you think you are, age is only a number. And you, my dear Doctor are very, very young. Even for someone slightly under two thousand."

The Doctor laughed, "Well you're not so bad yourself for…what are you again, a preteen girl? You're short enough for it."

"Oi!" Clara impishly kicked at his shins, missing him by a hair's width as he wisely stepped back to avoid the blows.

The Doctor sobered before continuing, "Anyways, you're home safe and sound, so I should get going, before it gets any worse out there."

"Are you sure?" Clara asked concerned, "It looks bad out there…you could stay, if you wanted to, just for a while, until the rain lets up."

The Doctor gave her a strange look before insisting, "No, my dear. I really should get going. Don't worry about me, I'll find a cab easily. Good night, Clara."

"Good night, Doctor."

The Doctor hesitated for a moment before taking the risk and reaching forward, placing a soft kiss to the back of Clara's hand, as a gentleman would. He watched her eyes flutter shut, before leaving her.

* * *

Clara climbed the steps hurriedly, the box of papers bobbing as she went up. Why did the Doctor have to live so high up? She had to bring him the stack of exams he had requested. Normally, Rose did so, but she had an anniversary dinner tonight with her boyfriend that she refused to miss.

So of course, Clara jumped at the opportunity to spend time with the Doctor off-campus (they hadn't done so since the surprise drinks night a few weeks ago) and insisted on bringing them to the flat tonight. When she had texted the Doctor (she had gotten his number when she decided to grade for him, but Rose warned her not too text too often as the old man was rather addicted to new technology, like a twelve year old) he had said it was fine and to just make it to his place before seven.

She was cutting it a bit close, but it shouldn't have mattered too much. Clara huffed as she reached the right door number, set the box down, and began knocking frantically. The door opened to reveal a woman with, quite frankly crazy, curly, space hair.

"Oh, hello," of all the things Clara hadn't expected another woman to be here, "Um, is the Doctor here?"

"Oh, yes of course. Why don't you come inside dear? He's just getting ready. Takes him ages to put a proper suit on," the woman rolled her eyes as she let Clara in.

Clara placed the box on the table she saw inside, "So, if you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

The woman smirked, "River Song, archaeologist."

"Oh," Clara recognized the name. The Doctor's ex, "So…I thought you two were…" Clara trailed off not sure how to finish.

"Oh we were married," River explained, thinking that was how Clara was going to finish her sentence, "Anyways, I'm off for a few weeks from my excavation in Turkey. Just got in this morning. The Doctor's taking me to a symphony tonight, he's been promising for ages; we just never got around to it."

"Right," Clara said slowly, still not quite understanding exactly what her relationship to the Doctor was now. He said they were friends, but who let's their exes stay with them and takes them out on dates?

"Oh do you want me to call him for you?" River asked excitedly, "He always takes forever! Sweetie! There's someone here for you, hurry up!"

"Oh no that's fine," Clara's eyes burned at the loving petname. Clearly, whatever the Doctor and River had shared, wasn't quite over yet. And she had promised Amy she wouldn't be a home wrecker or get too far in, "That's fine, I've got to go now anyways. I've got plans with my roommates. Just tell the Doctor – _Sweetie_ – that I stopped by to drop the papers off. He'll understand," Clara grimaced as the endearment left her tongue and quickly sped out the door. She didn't bother to close the door behind her, merely raced down the quickly blurring steps of the building. She wanted to put as much distance between her and the Doctor – and this horrible meeting – as possible.

By the time Clara made it home she was a mess. Her mascara was running and she was pretty sure she looked like a raccoon. She curled up in her bed under her covers, waiting for sleep to overtake her. She heard knocking on her door but refused to answer. A sliver of light illuminated her room and then a warm body was in the bed next to her.

"Oh Clara," Amy cooed as she stroked her hair.

"Please, please don't say 'I told you so'," Clara cried into her shirt, "It was just a stupid crush. That's all."

"If that were all, then you wouldn't be crying this much," Amy mothered her. That just made Clara sob even harder.

* * *

"Who was that?" the Doctor asked as he entered the living room.

"Oh, a young woman came by to drop this off," River gestured to the box of papers on the table. The Doctor rifled through the papers and hummed in acknowledgement.

"So was that her then?" River asked eagerly.

"Was that who?" the Doctor echoed.

"Sarah Jane said there was a young woman who had stolen your heart, and judging by the look on your face right now, I'd say she was right!"

"What does Sarah Jane know?! Nosy, journalist," the Doctor grumbled.

"Oh come now, stop acting like a child. So was that her then?"

"Yes," the Doctor admitted. The first time he had ever done so aloud, "Her name is Clara. And it doesn't matter how I feel about her, she's far too young for me anyways. And besides, she's also my student – well she was anyways. I'm not teaching her this semester, but she helps me with the grading."

River snorted, "Oh please, I'm sure Harkness has slept with plenty of his students. The man is as subtle as a gun! Why does this bother you so much?" River asked softly as she sat next to him on the sofa.

"She's so young, and besides, what makes you think she even cares for me in that way. Maybe she's just a huge flirt!"

River rolled her eyes, "Stop making excuses and feeling sorry for yourself. I've been telling you for ages what a catch you are! Besides, if she were just a flirt – and we both know she's not – then she wouldn't have spent so much time getting close to you. Sweetie, she's positively smitten with you!"

"If she's so smitten, then why didn't she stay to see me tonight?" the Doctor whined.

"She said she had made plans with her roommates. Besides, we're going to the symphony anyways, and we're going to be late if we don't leave now!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes and helped the woman put her coat on, "Let's say you're right and she does fancy me, what then? She's still a student."

"Then you let yourself enjoy it. It's high time you let loose and were happy for a change. Clara may not be able to tell, but I know you, and even though I only met her for a few minutes, I can just tell she's perfect for you. I haven't seen you this happy and carefree in ages, it's a nice change."

The Doctor grinned, "Yes, I suppose it is. You know, most women aren't this concerned about their exes' romantic lives."

"Well, we both know I'm not most women," River smirked and her eyes flashed dangerously, "Besides, I see helping you get laid and pursue a new healthy relationship as my good deed of the day. The karma's bound to kick in at some point!"

* * *

"Oi Clara! There you are! Do you mind helping me out with something? I've been looking everywhere for you," Rose called out as she ran after the short woman.

"Oh hi Rose," Clara greeted. She had been avoiding the blonde and the Doctor ever since she met River Song a couple weeks ago. She wasn't sure she could face the Doctor, and seeing Rose would just lead to the Doctor. But now she couldn't run anymore, "What is it that you need?"

"Oh just follow me," Rose led her through the winding hallways on a path Clara knew very well.

"Why are we going to the Doctor's office?" Clara asked cautiously.

"I need some help with the short answers the freshmen did for their exams last week. The Doctor has the box in his office. It won't take long, and don't worry…you won't have to see him. He's in a meeting right now," Rose gave her a knowing look.

"I wasn't avoiding him," Clara lied.

"I didn't say you were, but now we both know you are. Here we are, right in there, it's on the top shelf, do you see it?" Rose asked as she let them into the office and pointed to the bookshelf.

Clara squinted as she stood on her tiptoes, "No, I don't!" Why did she have to do this? Rose was the taller one.

"Oh, well keep looking."

Clara stretched higher up and was about to tell Rose the exams weren't there when she heard the heavy thud of the door closing. Panicking Clara ran to the door and began fiddling with the lock. But it was not good, the door was stuck.

"Rose! Rose, the door's stuck, I can't get out!" Clara yelled.

"Yeah, I know…that's because I'm keeping it locked," Rose replied calmly.

"What? Why?!"

"The Doctor's going to be back any minute now and you two are going to talk out whatever has been going on between the two of you. He's been a right mess these last two weeks, and I know it's because you haven't been around. So just calm down and take a seat."

Clara glared and began pounding on the door, begging to be let out. She hated enclosed spaces almost as much as she hated getting lost. After a few minutes of screaming herself hoarse, Clara slid down against the door, realizing Rose wouldn't open it. All she could do was wait.

"This is for your own good Clara," Rose's muffled voice informed her through the thick wood.

Clara stayed silent and flopped herself onto the sofa, awaiting her impending doom. She hadn't felt this nervous about being in the Doctor's office since the beginning of the previous semester. It wasn't long before she heard a hastily muffled conversation on the other side, quickly followed by the sound of the doorknob turning. The Doctor had just arrived.

* * *

"Rose, what are you doing out here? Did you need something?" the Doctor asked as he strided up to the young blonde leaning against his door.

"No Doctor, it's about what you need. And what I'm giving you," Rose grinned as she poked him in the chest.

"And what's that?" he asked dryly.

"Behind these doors," Rose patted the old wood, "I have a surprise for you. And you're going to love me forever. But the thing is, you have to fix whatever is wrong."

"Congratulations, you have succeeded in completely confusing me," the Doctor snapped, "Is there anything you'd like to tell me, in the Queen's English?"

Rose smiled even wider and patted his shoulder, "Don't worry, you'll understand when you go in there. Good luck, have fun," Rose winked, "And you can thank me later."

The Doctor stared after her retreating figure for only a few moments before hastily fumbling with the doorknob, finally opening the door.

"Clara," he breathed when he saw her standing nervously by the sofa. He closed the door behind him softly as he went to stand by his desk, "I haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, well I've been busy. Anyways, I'm only here because Rose tricked me, so I'm going to go now."

"Why did she have to trick you? Didn't you want to see me?"

"Of course, I mean yes, or no…I mean…I just figured you'd be busy," Clara tapered off.

"Like that's ever stopped you before," the Doctor teased, attempting to make the young woman smile.

Clara failed to see the humour, "Yes well, just figured it'd be different now. You know, since your wife, River, is in town," she remarked bitterly.

"Ex-wife," the Doctor automatically corrected, "I fail to see how that impacts our relationship."

Clara's head snapped up at the word relationship, "And what sort of relationship would that be?" She was through dancing around the subject. They'd done that for months, it was time she got a clear answer.

This time, it was the Doctor who was nervous, "Oh, you know. Just, you're my student and co-worker, I suppose."

"And that's it, is it?"

"What more do you want?" the Doctor asked, his Scottish accent rough.

"You know exactly what I want. And up until two weeks ago, when I saw River at your flat I was sure, I mean I _thought_ you wanted it too."

The Doctor crossed his arms, his anger starting to build, "And why did seeing River bother you so much? She's my ex, she comes to town every few months and needs a place to stay. That's all, don't see why it should concern a _little girl_ so much."

"Don't you dare call me little!" Clara spat at him, "You know why it bothered me so much – unless I've completely imagined the last few months of flirting and sexual tension. Honestly, I'm not going to spell it out for you just because you're an idiotic genius!"

"I'm pretty sure that's an oxymoron," the Doctor stated.

"I don't care what it is!" Clara shouted, "You're a moron!"

The Doctor heaved a sigh and rubbed his temples, "My dear, what exactly is it that you want me to tell you?"

"Tell me that I'm not wrong. That I haven't been imagining it all. That you're not still in love with River…and that…I actually have a chance with you."

"I'm not still in love with River," the Doctor replied instantly.

"And?" Clara egged on.

The Doctor stared at her intently, "And I'm not going to tell you…that I _don't_ feel anything for you, because that would be a lie. But I can't tell you that I do either. You are _far_ too young for me, not to mention a student at the university."

Clara stepped up to him, her hands running up and down the buttons of his jacket, looking up at him through her eyelashes, she insisted, "And I don't care, about any of that. I don't care how old you are. I'm turning twenty-three soon."

"And I'm already fifty, over twice your age," he contended.

"And it doesn't bother me one bit. I may be a student at the university, but I'm not _your_ student anymore, so it doesn't matter!"

"It does to me," the Doctor picked her hands off of him, but held on to them for good measure.

"So you won't tell me you have feelings for me," Clara tested, her voice and eyes hard. The Doctor remained silent, "Fine then. Don't tell me," leaning forward, her lips just a whisper away from his own, she murmured, "Show me instead."

The Doctor broke after that and gave into her whims. His arms curled around her waist pulling her against him as she grabbed his shirt to bring his lips crashing against her own. He had fought these instincts for too long to care anymore. It was as easy as breathing for the two of them.

"Door," the Doctor whispered roughly as he kissed her cheek.

"What about it?" Clara tugged his hair, trying to make him stop talking. He could be putting his mouth to much better use.

"It's unlocked, anyone could walk in."

"Let them," Clara tilted her head back, eyes closed as the Doctor's hands explored under her blouse.

"Clara!" the Doctor chastised. Clara rolled her eyes and disentangled herself from the mess of limbs just long enough to lock the door. The second she did the Doctor pounced on her; shoving her hard against the door – so much like her fantasy from ages ago.

"More," she begged as she tightened her legs around his waist, her one hand trailing down to his zipper on his trousers, while the other remained in his curls, giving her full discretion as to where his lips could go (anywhere and everywhere).

"Impatient!"

"Don't care! Been wanting this for ages – imagined it a thousand times!"

"Where, how?" the Doctor asked. Clara opened her eyes and met the Doctor's hungry gaze, his pupils blown and his lips already swollen.

Clara gasped, "The desk, take me on the desk. Now."

"Bossy too."

"Shut up, you love it!" Clara scooted back as the Doctor carried and placed her on his desk as she had asked (demanded). Clara shoved the various papers and pens onto the chair and lay back, spreading her legs wide open, knowing exactly what it would do to the Doctor as she was wearing a dress (with no stockings for once. Thank you, spring time sunshine!).

Clara smirked as she watched the Doctor's eyes widen with lust, but he made no attempt to move forward.

"Stop thinking so much and just enjoy it," Clara sat up and met his lips again, shrugging him out of his jacket as she did so, "Just come on!" she tugged him on top of her by the collar of his shirt (she couldn't help but think that it would be easier to drag him by a tie, but she wasn't too picky).

"Are you sure?" the Doctor asked one last time. He placed his hands on either side of her so that his body covered hers, but she didn't suffocate under his weight.

"I've been sure for months. Please Doctor, if you want me, you can have me."

The Doctor didn't need to be told twice. Without another word he lowered himself and went down on the young woman.

* * *

"That was really nice," Clara commented sleepily. She was curled up on top of the Doctor, who was only in his pants, while she had donned his shirt and clumsily slipped into her own knickers. She traced circles on his bare chest, letting the bliss spread over her body as they both lay stretched along the sofa.

"Bit of an understatement, don't you think?" the Doctor asked lightly.

"Absolutely wonderful?" she tried again.

The Doctor chuckled, she could feel the vibrations of every laugh, "I was thinking something more along the lines of mind-blowingly spectacular, but sure. Wonderful, will do."

"Mmm, no you're right, mind-blowingly spectacular. Sorry, my brain feels like a bunch of goo. I feel amazing right now," Clara curled her toes and nuzzled further against the Doctor.

"So do I," the Doctor admitted, his hand stroking her back.

"So then why are you so quiet right now?" Clara poked at him.

"How long have you wanted that for? Fancied me, I mean?"

"I don't know, probably sometime around the second time we met one-on-one. Before that I just thought you were an egotistical, old prick," a horrible thought crossed her mind and she couldn't help but give it life, "Did you want that? Or did you just do it because I made you or-"

"Clara! Stop! I assure you, I did want that. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't," the Doctor held up his hands, halting her thought process.

"Oh, how long…for you I mean? How long have you fancied me? You know, if you're willing to say it," Clara dredged up the argument that had started this all.

The Doctor snorted, "I think we're way past saying it, love. Yes, I fancy you, and that's putting it lightly," the Doctor stated clearly, "I don't know. Probably sometime in the first few weeks you were in my class. I only really noticed you after I called on you a few times, and then I just enjoyed it too much to stop. You'd have the most adorable look on your face, I loved it!"

Clara smacked him, "You arse! I was terrified of when you would call on me; I thought you were torturing me. Ugh, you're horrible," Clara laughed, showing him no true malice (any more).

"I couldn't help myself. You were – and still are, of course – a beautiful, young woman, I couldn't help but tease you, just a bit."

"You don't look half bad yourself," Clara flirted.

"I think you need to get your eye-sight checked. I'm old, my dear," the Doctor pillowed his head on his arm.

"Yes, I know. You're a Silver Fox, haven't I told you that before? And didn't I just show you how little I care about your age? Would you like me to reiterate it?" Clara sat up straight, straddling his waist, proving her point, rocking back and forth, trying to get a reaction from him.

The Doctor grabbed her shoulders and stilled her, "Alright, alright, I believe you. I don't think I can do any of that again, not just now, anyways."

"Does that mean there's going to be a next time?" Clara asked innocently.

"Why, did you have something in mind?"

"Oh you know, just the usual fantasies…"

The Doctor sat up a tad also, his back against the arm of the sofa, "And what fantasies would those be?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Oh you know…staying after class late, getting into trouble for not turning in my work…and needing to punished, and then of course the classic shagging me against the chalkboard."

"Oh, so just the usual then," the Doctor teased.

"Obviously."

The Doctor laughed and touched his forehead against hers, "I think we could make a few those come true, don't you?"

Clara's eyes flashed with excitement, "So why are you still worried then. If the age doesn't bother you, then what does? And don't say nothing, because I can see it in your eyes. Something's wrong."

The Doctor sighed, "You're still a student at the university. I could lose my job over this. It's dangerous; you wouldn't be able to tell anybody."

Clara looked at him seriously, "I know. I know all of that. But I think this is worth the risk, don't you? Besides, I'm graduating in a few months; we can keep it quiet for a little while. I can keep a secret, Doctor. Only a few months, and then we can tell everybody, if you want to, that is."

The Doctor stayed silent then said, "Of course I want to. A few months then we'll tell everyone. Now get up, we have to get going. Did you see where my trousers went? And I'm going to need my shirt back, you can't keep that."

Clara shrieked as the Doctor tossed her aside as he started searching for his strewn clothes in the mess, "They're by the bookshelf over there. Where are we going?" she asked as she undid the buttons of her (the Doctor's) shirt.

"You are going home and having a shower, because frankly dear, you're a mess. And then you're going to be ready in a couple of hours because I am taking you out to dinner, a nice and proper dinner."

"Really?" Clara beamed.

"Of course, just because we have to keep this quiet, doesn't mean we shouldn't be allowed to enjoy ourselves like any other couple would. You're worth the risk Clara; to me you're worth it."

Clara smiled, "So this dinner, will there be cocktails?"

"There will be whatever you want, whatever your little heart desires. As long as I'm with you, it doesn't matter."

"Cheesy," Clara wrinkled her nose making the Doctor laugh in agreement, but still, "Dinner it is." She sealed the deal with a kiss.

* * *

"Jack, have you seen the papers the students gave on the Roman Republic? I can't find them anywhere – what is going on in here?" the Doctor entered Captain Harkness' office in a hurry. He had to get home and get dressed for his first official date with Clara. After getting dressed (an arduous task given the mess of clothes) the Doctor had realized he still had some work to finish and sent Clara on her way, promising he would pick her up in a few hours. He had just decided to pick up the papers from Jack Harkness before he could finally head out and get cleaned up before picking up Clara. But the group he met in the room was enough to wipe the Doctor's memory clean of any previous plans.

Captain Jack Harkness, Jo Grant, Sarah Jane Smith and River Song were all gathered around the table with a pile of money in the middle.

"Oh hey Doc," Jack greeted with a smile, "This? Oh it's nothing, River and I just won a bet, that's all."

"And what bet was that?" the Doctor asked suspiciously, eyeing his ex-wife.

"Oh nothing," Jo and Sarah Jane chimed in at the same time.

"Oh, just how long it would take you to get your act together and finally go after the girl. We won, didn't we Jack?" River answered bluntly.

"I don't understand," the Doctor said.

"Oh for goodness sake, it was a betting pool. It's been going on for a while now; we all placed bets on when and how you and Clara were going to end up together. You are together now aren't you?" Sarah explained, unable to keep the truth from her best friend.

"Well, yes, I think we are. But I'm still so confused," the Doctor continued to stare at the lot of them.

"Oh there's nothing to be confused about!" Jo grabbed him by the arm, "She's absolutely gorgeous, your Clara!"

"Yes she is," the Doctor smiled, Clara was now _his_. Then his mind clicked into placed and he fumed, "You made a betting pool on my personal life?"

"Technically speaking, River started it," Jack pointed at the woman.

"Thanks Jack," River said in a steely voice, "Oh don't get so upset, Sweetie. I figured it was the least I could do, seeing as I'm pretty sure I caused a lot of trouble between the two of you. Sarah Jane told me the two of you weren't speaking after I had met the girl, so we all figured we'd give you a little push. That's all. Honestly, you should be grateful!"

"Oh yes, completely grateful for all of you invading my personal life," the Doctor continued to rage, not denying that River had sparked quite a bit of drama between the couple, "Wait, you said you helped us get together?"

"Yes, and judging by the state of your rumpled clothes, it went rather well, you bad, bad boy," River smirked.

The Doctor didn't even have the energy to look embarrassed anymore, "Who else was involved in this betting pool."

Jo looked down sheepishly before answering, "Not that many. Just us, your grad student Rose, and I think Clara's roommates? Amy and Rory?" The Doctor rubbed his temples tiredly.

"Doc, don't get mad. Look, if you're going to have a relationship with a student, you're going to need some help with hiding it. We can cover for you, help you out. And Clara's going to need someone to talk to about all this. We're here to help, Scout's Honour!"

The Doctor snorted, "I highly doubt you've ever been a scout in your life, Jack," he mulled over the words Jack had said and came to a decision, "Alright then, you're right."

"I am?" Jack said surprised, "I mean, yes, I am."

"We're going to need help. And thank you so much for your generous contribution to our cause."

"What?" Jack asked, confused.

"That money you just won, it's going to pay for our first date," the Doctor snatched the money of the table and began counting it, "And I reckon there's enough in here to pay for a very nice dinner, wouldn't you say so?"

The Doctor smiled mischievously as he watched Jack grumble and pout, "Well then, Captain. Thanks a bunch for your _help_. Clara and I appreciate it very much. Good night ladies," the Doctor had the last word as he strutted out the door, he had a date to prepare for.

"Well that went a lot better than I expected," Sarah Jane commented.

"She seems like a lovely girl that Clara," Jo complimented again.

"I knew they were right together when I first saw her," River boasted, "Especially when I found out she wasn't even thrown by Mr. Charmer over here," she jerked a thumb in Jack's direction.

"I can't believe she chose the Doctor over me. I mean he's great and all, but he's grey and I'm still young!" Jack whined.

"Oh the heart the heart wants what the heart wants, not even you can compete with that Harkness," Sarah Jane admonished.

Jack stared at the empty doorway the Doctor had just departed through, "I still think it should have been me."

His statement was met with three resounding slaps from all the women in the room.

* * *

**Whoof! Finished! Hope you enjoyed the read, looking back on it, I probably didn't need the last scene but it was fun to write and I wanted to end it on a humorous tone…especially since everyone was so mean to Jack beforehand, I thought he deserved to appear in at least one scene! I'm not sure if I explained enough of the Doctor's point of view...it mainly just focused on Clara's crush.**

**The sad thing, is that this doesn't even have all the scenes I wanted to include, I glossed over a lot of things…and it's still super long! I can't win!**

**Anyways, I'm done rambling. Thank you so much for reading, I hope I did this trope justice and I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Please feel free to leave a review, thanks! :D**


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